Home From the Sea Page 8

  "Sleep did not come easily. Every time I closed my eyes I saw blackness where something dark, huge and old lurked. I didn't know whether it was aware of me or not, but I did not wish to take any chances. My whole body seemed to sing with a deep bass note that took hours to subside and even then I still felt it when I touched my teeth with my tongue. I could lie there no longer. I got up and went in search of a smoke.

  "As always, a pipe of my best shag soon had me calm and able to consider the situation with some degree of rationality. Soon I had convinced myself.

  "I believed the origin of the happenings to lie in a strange but perfectly understandable cause that I have seen before, and indeed, I have previously related the story to you chaps. You may remember my tale of the Jarvee and the phenomenon known as attractive vibrations. Harzam, in his monograph on "Induced Hauntings," points out that such are invariably produced by "induced vibrations," that is, by temporary vibrations set up by some outside cause. Well I had my cause, in the rhythmic rat-a-tat of the gunfire. Something in the mound was sympathetic to the sound, and answering in kind.

  "All I had to do was prove it, and for that, I was going to need both the help of the Colonel, and the use of some equipment I had at hand back in my lodgings in London.

  "Before repairing back to the camp bed I told the Colonel of my plans, and had him send for my things. I retired to bed happy that I had taken some degree of control over the situation.

  "That feeling lasted only as long as it took me to fall asleep. The dream came immediately.

  "It started in pitch blackness. A drum beat in the distance, a deep thudding like a hammer on metal. I tried to wake myself, for somehow I knew this to be a dream, but I was locked in place, unable to move, unable even to scream as the beat grew louder and the blackness darkened. Soon the drum pounded in my ears so loud that I thought I would never hear anything else again. In the dark something shifted. . . and moved closer.

  "I woke in a cold sweat.

  "I immediately knew that there would be no more sleep for me that night. I took my pipe and went outside. As I lit up I could see thin tendrils of smoke drifting skywards from tents all around me. Lamps were on in many of them and I could hear murmured conversations from the bigger tents where several men were billeted together. I doubt if there was a single man in the camp yet asleep.

  "In the morning the Colonel took my advice and raised camp, moving the whole operation several miles to the north. It took until well after noon, but it was immediately apparent that the moral of the troops had improved.

  "As for myself, I approached the mound with some trepidation, but I was determined to prove my theory of induced vibrations.

  "To my surprise and delight young Carruthers volunteered to accompany me. I also prevailed on the Colonel for the assistance of a draftsman. This turned out to be a serious chap from Yorkshire by the name of Brown who scarcely uttered a word but produced the most wonderful detailed drawings.

  "We spent much of that first day in measuring and describing the exterior dimensions of the mound. There was no repeat of the terrors of the day before, although there was a constant low thrumming all across the mound, as if something was just waiting to be kicked into action once more.

  "Carruthers and myself left Brown to finish his preliminary drawing and lit up some smokes. The young private was obviously already an old hand. He had rolled a needle-thin smoke and had it lit even before I got my pipe full. He held it cupped backwards in his hand to protect it from the wind and when he took a drag of smoke it was the furtiveness of a man well used to taking his pleasure under the threat of being found out.

  "We were still smoking when Brown called us over. His examination of the ground had borne fruit and he stood in a slight depression. He had pulled some of the topsoil aside and pointed downward to a deeper hole that led into blackness.

  "We had found the entrance.

  *

  Carnacki paused once more -- this time to allow us to recharge our glasses and get some fresh smokes going. While we were occupied he himself sat and stared into the fire. I noticed for the first time that there were dark bags under his eyes, and a strain showing there that I had never previously seen.

  He looked like a man who had not slept well for quite some time. Indeed, I would have prevailed on him to save the tale for another night, but he waved me aside, intent on continuing.

  *

  "I went down into the barrow later that afternoon armed with nothing more than a lamp. At first the interior looked as I would have expected. The walls were built of large blocks of sandstone, beautifully engineered and dovetailed together so tight that you could scarce slip a sheet of paper between them. I have visited several Neolithic tombs, in Carnac, in Orkney and on Dartmoor. This gave the same sense of age, of a time long past. What I hadn't expected, what was completely different, was the overwhelming feeling that this place was in use.

  "The initial chamber was some ten feet long, and half as wide. Small passages led off on either side leading to sub-chambers, all of which were dry, but empty. Brown entered behind me and started to make measurements. Young Carruthers loitered at the entrance, too scared to enter, but driven by his duty to help me. I took pity on him and told him he could have a smoke break as I headed deeper into the mound.

  "The ground descended at the far end of the chamber, leading me down an incline and into a larger room beyond.

  "It was a rough-hewn chamber of some antiquity, and unlike the smaller chambers near the entrance, this one was far from empty, The walls were covered in small, tightly packed carvings. At first I thought it might be a language, but it was none that I recognised from my studies, indeed, it seemed to bear no resemblance to anything I had ever seen before. Brown was equally as puzzled when he arrived and the pair of us spent some time studying all the carvings searching for meaning. None came.

  "All the time I had been in the mound I was aware that the vibrations underfoot continued apace. But as yet there was no sign of any drumming or anything that might suggest a return to the full shaking terrors of the day before.

  "For that, I needed the trigger, but I was loath to implement that plan without a better understanding of the outcome. That meant there was nothing for it but to try and decipher the carvings. Brown and I started in straight away, him taking meticulous drawings as I divided the large wall area into manageable sectors.

  "Light was fading on the first day before we emerged and dragged our weary bodies across to the camp's new location. That night everyone slept soundly, with no interruptions for dark things moving to the beat of giant drums.

  "Morale in the camp was much improved in the morning, and my own spirits were raised by the arrival of my things from London, including the two phonographs I had requested."

  *

  Carnacki had not paused, but Jessop interrupted the tale.

  "Phonographs? Oh, I say. Have you got the four-minute cylinders? They say the quality is the best yet, although Gramophone quality is also improving. I believe discs are going to be the thing to have next year. But. . . "

  If allowed, Jessop would go on about his equipment for hours. Luckily one look from Carnacki put paid to that.

  Carnacki allowed us a second to settle before resuming.

  *

  "We spent the next three days merely cataloging the extent of the wall carvings in the chamber, and poor Brown was exhausted by the end of it. But he had provided me with a complete annotation of everything we could see. Unfortunately I could still make neither head nor tail of it. The Sigsand MS was no help, holding no descriptions of any such markings. I saw nothing for it but to proceed with the experiment and pull the trigger.

  "The case took on a further degree of urgency when the men sleeping nearest the mound started to complain of a return of the dreams. It seemed the effects of the mound were still spreading.

  "The next morning Carruthers helped me record the sound of the Hotchkiss Mark I onto a cylinder. Then we lugged the phonograms and a
battery big enough to drive them down to the mound.

  "Once again I took pity on the lad and allowed him to stay at the entrance as I went down to the chamber. We had set the two phonograms in the center of the space. I steeled myself for whatever might happen and set the first cylinder going.

  "The sound of gunfire filled the chamber.

  "The drumming started almost immediately. I set the second phonogram to record and left the chamber at a run. Even before I reached the entrance I could feel the darkness creep and reach for me. I threw myself out into the open just as it threatened to blind me. Carruthers half-carried me across the Plain until we reached a place where the vibrations were manageable and we stood, sharing one of his smokes. After what seemed like an age the drumming finally subsided. I crept back into the mound and retrieved the phonographs.

  "I had my recording. But it had come at a cost. That same night the dreams came again, to every man in the camp."

  *

  "Matters did not improve in the morning. I was summonsed to the Colonel's tent to be met by an officious little man in a suit who was introduced as Jenkins from the Ministry.

  "This man proved to be most interested in my research, and indeed seemed to know every detail of what had already occurred. He demanded to listen to the recording I had made the day before. I tried to appeal to the Colonel, but it seemed that the Ministry man outranked anyone else at the camp. Even when I explained what I considered to be the danger of sympathetic vibrations, still the man insisted. I had no choice but to comply.

  "I had no idea what the outcome would be of playing the recording. The trigger, I already knew, was the rhythm of the gunfire, but I also knew from a harsh lesson learned that the very sound of the drumming would induce terror in even the strongest of hearts while in the vicinity of the mound. Whether that would be the case here in the camp, I had no way of knowing. It was with some trepidation that I switched on the phonogram.

  "The sound of drumming filled the tent and I waited for a reaction.

  "The syncopated rhythm might have set one's feet tapping, but the drumming proceeded to its end with no other power than that.

  "I breathed a sigh of relief. The man from the Ministry could not conceal his disappointment. After he had left the Colonel explained the situation.

  "‘The Ministry thinks you might have discovered a new weapon. They were hoping to be able to take your cylinder and duplicate it. Just think what would be the outcome if they could take the terror, the nightmares, and induce them in our enemies. We would strike fear into their hearts even before a shot was fired. Think of it.'

  "I did indeed think of it. It filled me with almost as much fear as the blackness itself. Even as I lay abed that night I could think of little else. And when sleep did finally come, it was filled with my worst nightmare, a creeping blackness inching ever closer, reaching -- always reaching.

  "I woke covered in a cold clammy sweat to find that less than ten minutes had passed. But there would be no more sleep that night.

  "In the morning I set to the task of deciphering the markings, for I now believed that they held the secret to halting the nightly assault on our senses."

  *

  Carnacki stopped and set about refilling his pipe. I noticed that his movements were slow and deliberate, as if he needed to concentrate fully on the task. I saved him a journey and refilled his whisky glass.

  In the lull, Jessop tried to apologize for his earlier gaffe, but Carnacki waved him away with a tired smile.

  "I will be happy to hear your views on the latest recording techniques," he said. "For they will be most useful in future investigations. But for now, let me finish this tale, for I find myself growing tired, and I would like to end tonight if I can."

  We all recharged our glasses for the last time and lit up our smokes to add to the growing fug in the parlor.

  *

  "For three more days Brown and I knocked our heads against the enigma that was the markings. I must have pored over his drawings a hundred times, and listened to the wax cylinder as many times again.

  "The nights were the worst, filled with the screams of those who were able to sleep, and the constant grumbling of those who struggled to stay awake. I smoked twice as much as usual and each morning arose with a mouth tasting of ash and a pounding headache.

  "On the fourth morning news started to filter in of disturbances in the night in surrounding towns. The effect was spreading.

  "Orders came down from on high that the situation had to be dealt with immediately, but neither the Colonel or I had any idea how to comply with such a request. It was when the Colonel informed me that he intended to pack the mound with explosives and send it to hell where it belongs that I decided drastic action of a different kind was required.

  "Carruthers came with me down to the mound, the pair of us lugging the phonographs and battery between us. This time the young man insisted on standing with me in the chamber as I switched on both recordings simultaneously. The sound of gunfire echoed and joined with the drumming. The chamber rang and echoed, a cacophonous din assaulting our ears. The shaking also came almost immediately, first through the soles of my feet then up my spine until my very skull rattled and hummed. My sight started to go soon after than, blackness creeping until I was once more totally blind.

  "Every part of me screamed that I should run, but I stood my ground. I felt young Carruther's cold hand in my palm. The drumming thudded through me, sending my stomach seething and roiling. The blackness thickened and again I felt something move.

  "Still I stood my ground. The noise was almost unbearable.

  "The thing kept moving in the darkness. It reached for me.

  "And then it happened. The drumming in the room reached a new frenzy. Dust and rubble shook free from the ceiling.

  "The blackness receded. . . slowly at first, then quicker as the drumming reached a crescendo.

  "The cylinders played out. The drumbeats echoed in the chamber for a while then died away. The darkness slowly cleared. The first thing I saw was Carruther's pale white face, his eyes staring wildly.

  "Still hand in hand we stumbled outside where he voided the contents of his stomach in the grass. I almost felt like joining him, but my mind was working faster than my body.

  "I had learned something. The darkness was much more than just a vibration artifact – it was a malevolent entity, intent on breaking through into our world. And the drumming did not bring the darkness.

  "It kept the darkness at bay.

  "By the time my meeting with the Colonel came round in the afternoon I had the beginnings of a thesis.

  "Brown provided the missing link barely an hour before the meeting. He arrived at a run to where I sat in my tent preparing my presentation for the Colonel.

  "‘It is not a language,' he said, brandishing his drawings in front of my face in his left hand and the cylinder of the drumming recordings in his right. ‘It is a notation. Almost musical. . . but definitely rhythmic. Look.'

  "He traced out a patch of his drawing with a finger, then drew my attention to an area of the cylinder. The marks on the wax corresponded almost exactly with the marks on the drawing."

  *

  "I took both the drawings and the cylinder with me when I met the Colonel. He was still of a mind to pack the mound with munitions and be done with it, but to his credit he heard me out

  "‘I now believe I was in error to ascribe the situation to sympathetic vibrations,' I began.

  "That got me a raised eyebrow and a wry smile, but he was enough of a brick about it to allow me to continue.

  "‘There is indeed an entity residing in the barrow.'

  "That got me another raised eyebrow, but I ploughed on regardless.

  "‘I believe the barrow to be a prison, and the low chamber to be a cage, of sorts. The entity is bound within this chamber by some kind of acoustic bonds, as delineated by the carvings on the walls. We have somehow loosened these bonds by firing the weapon atop the mound, the
rhythm of the gun in some manner providing a key to the locks that bind the entity. It is obvious that we have given the being a way of partially escaping its cell, and it has taken the opportunity, visiting us nightly in our dreams, and testing the defenses for a way to escape completely.'

  "The Colonel stopped me in full flow.

  "‘It may be obvious to you old man,' he said. "But it's dueced odd all around. Are you sure a bomb wouldn't be efficacious?'

  "‘I am sure,' I said. "To do so would release the bonds completely, and the entity would be free. I suspect we would quickly see just how effective the hoped-for weapon would be. The whole country would be in uproar in days.'

  "The colonel went white as a sheet.

  "‘Can't we just close up the mound and stop using the gun?'

  "I shook my head.

  "‘The key has already been turned in the lock.'

  "‘Then what do you suggest?'

  "I trusted to my instincts.

  "There is a solution I have attempted with some success in the past," I said. "I have it among my things. With your permission, I would like to try destroying the entity completely."

  *

  Carnacki stopped and stared into the fire.

  "I have been considering how much of the detail of this case I should relate," he said. "I have years of experience of dealing with such matters. But you chaps here have only experienced at second hand the awful powers of beings from the Outer Ring. . . for that is what I had on my hands down in that chamber. An entity so vast as to be almost incomprehensible, completely without interest in the acts of mere humans, yet with the capacity to destroy us all utterly should we allow it access to this plane. I do not wish to burden you, my friends, with thoughts so dark that they will invade your dreams.

  "Yes, the entity was indeed from that same psychic circle as I told of in the tale of Wilton's Hog. I believe it to be a similar kind of thing, something whose existence plagued the builders of the old stones and barrows out there on the Plain. Indeed I believe in some respects that the old stones are aligned in their fashion because of the Outer Ring, in an ancient attempt to control and divert the powers in much the same way as I do myself with more modern technology. You get my line of suggestion?"